<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Now Together We're Alone by yeah_alright</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27785701">Now Together We're Alone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeah_alright/pseuds/yeah_alright'>yeah_alright</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Direction (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Christmas fic, Exes to Lovers, F/F, Ficlet, Girl Direction, Snowed In</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 01:13:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,700</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27785701</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeah_alright/pseuds/yeah_alright</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Snowed in with her ex-girlfriend and no one else to distract them, Louis's confronted by warring emotions as memories of their past life together pile up along with the snow trapping them inside.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Girl Direction Winter Fic Fest</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Now Together We're Alone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My prompt was: "Exes to Lovers. They are snowed in over Christmas and old feelings resurface." This maybe wasn't quite what the prompter had in mind, but I hope they still enjoy it if they read.</p><p>The week off I'd planned to devote to writing this disappeared thanks to an urgent project that came up, so this is much shorter than I originally intended. The unexpectedly limited time to write did make me try out a unique (to me) structure, though, which was fun to wrestle with. Hopefully it works!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Fuck, she looks cute. Sexy, too. Yet still essentially a dweeb. A wholly appealing style of dweeb. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It shouldn’t be possible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that’s Harry. So much about her shouldn’t be possible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s just so </span>
  <em>
    <span>much.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That tangle of curls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those plush lips, the exact shade of pink the color pink aspires to be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those stupid fucking bunny teeth and goddamn unbelievable dimple that shows up even when her smile’s not big enough to show off those stupid fucking (outrageously adorable) bunny teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her immaculate tits with their perpetually pert (and unimaginably sensitive – fuck, Louis’ tongue twitches at the thought) nipples, that same textbook pink. The same pink Louis knows is hiding elsewhere, too. Delicate and demanding at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck, why does she have to be here? Why is Louis?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And where the bloody hell is everyone else?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Goddamn sodding Niall, insisting their uni friends keep up their annual ski trip year after year – no matter the current configuration of serious relationships or casual shagging or recent heartbreak among them – just because they happened to all go skiing together at the last minute one weekend in their third year and ended up having the time of their lives. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ok, yes. Louis loves this trip. Or she always has done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time she’s here more out of stubbornness than desire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because why should Harry get this all to herself?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Louis’d rather suffer for three days, furiously pondering Harry’s dweeby adorable sexiness than let her saunter around the cabin and the slopes all weekend without a care in the world, scrunching those long curls and barking that ridiculous laugh at her own awful jokes, free from the discomfort of sharing space with her still-heartbroken ex. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Lou. ’s really nice to see you. Just us so far, eh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fuck, Lou, I’m so sorry. Please stop crying. Please.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh, sorry, am I not reacting the way you’d hoped to you leaving me?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sorry…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“My heart's not breaking quietly enough for you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Lou, no, I– I just. Fuck. I’m sorry.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“So you’ve said,” Louis spits. “But not sorry enough to stay.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I– I don’t know what else to say.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You've said plenty. So unless you’re going to tell me this has all been a sick fucking joke and spend the next week begging my forgiveness, you can just get the fuck out.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Lou, I don’t want to leave it like this. Please. I still lo–”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No!” Louis shouts, loudly enough to make Harry flinch. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Good.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t you fucking dare.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Louis…” she sounds so pathetic, barely getting the name out through a shudder. Louis almost feels something like pity. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Almost.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Out, Harry. I mean it. There’s nothing left to say." </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fucking hell, where are Niall and the rest? Louis can’t take any more small talk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s fine enough for killing time at a bus stop or filling space between passed hors-d’oeuvres. But with Harry, it’s absolute torture. Yet the alternative – remaining silently alone together – seems unbearable. Silence with Harry used to be so comfortable. Just occupying the same space – cuddled up half asleep or mindlessly scrolling their phones from opposite sides of a room – was always the safest Louis ever felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Louis can’t believe she thought she’d be angry all weekend. She’d kill to feel angry. This is so much worse. Yearning to be near Harry, but unable to get close. Craving her voice, but refusing to ask questions. Itching to touch her, but not having the right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wishing she could hate her but faced with the shattering truth that she doesn’t even love her one bit less. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think I’ll go for a quick stroll.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, um, ok.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If she can escape Harry’s imploring eyes and endearing frown and perfectly mussed bun, even for an hour, Louis’s sure she can work herself up enough to get through the night. Or at least ’til their arsehole mates arrive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Louis’s only cracked the door when a gust of wind shoves it open, knocking her on her arse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Louis! Oh my God, are you ok?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Louis barely registers Harry helping her up, so stunned by the furious swirl of snow outside that she almost misses how Harry’s grip on her elbow thaws the chill on her wind-smacked cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you stand? We’ve gotta get this door closed!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, shit,” Louis mutters as they slam the door. No wonder Niall and the rest haven’t made it. There’s no way they will tonight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Harry agrees with an apologetic smile. “Guess we’re not going anywhere.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fuck, yes! Right there. Oh, right there, Lou, God! Please don’t stop.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I got you baby, I’m not going anywhere.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fuuuuuuuck!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“God, I love making you scream.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Mmm, bit of a fan of that m’self.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re going to have to keep a lot more quiet this weekend at my mum’s. Think you can manage that, or do I need to pack a gag?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Cheeky little shit. I can manage to keep my orgasms to a whisper if you can manage not to let it wound your precious ego.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Mmm, can’t pretend that’s not a valid concern. Better give you another shrieking one before we hit the road then, to tide us over.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ready when you are.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I love you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Love you, baby.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Then get one of those gorgeous nipples in my mouth.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It would be my absolute pleasure. As soon as you get your hands wrapped back around my neck.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fucking tinsel. Maybe Louis’ll get lucky and accidentally strangle herself and pass out ’til morning. Let Harry finish the decorating she’d insisted upon after finding a Christmas box while looking for torches. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first Louis had been grateful for the distraction, which she sorely needed after surviving the ordeal of Harry brushing her fringe back from her face to check that Louis hadn’t incurred any scratches from her tussle with the wind. Physically, Louis was fine, but the concern in Harry’s eyes and the tenderness of her touch left her emotionally bruised. The half-second their eyes had met, and the barely perceptible shift in Harry’s expression, had knocked the breath out of Louis harder than her fall had. So when Harry had excitedly shouted from the hall closet that she’d found an activity, Louis had agreed immediately, desperate for anything to keep them busy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But with every new carol Harry hums as she scatters candles about (“Just in case. I only found the one torch, so this’ll be better if the lights go off.”) and lovingly places a hideous collection of porcelain Santa Clauses on the mantle, Louis remembers there’s nothing on earth that can distract her from Harry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry is the ultimate distraction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Harry mutters. It’s barely audible, but Louis is so attuned to Harry right now, she’d probably sense if she released her hair from its bun even with her back turned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it,” she asks cautiously, turning around to face Harry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, nothing,” Harry replies hurriedly, her eyes cast down. “Just a silly thing I found in the box.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Louis still knows Harry well enough to know she’s trying to hide something. And Harry should know Louis well enough to know there’s no way she’s going to let her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Louis crosses the room, growing calmer with every step, Harry lifts her gaze to Louis’ face. She’s worrying at her bottom lip with her stupid adorable bunny teeth, distracted enough that she forgets to hide the item.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mistletoe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Louis reaches Harry just as Harry realizes she’s holding it in plain view.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, sorry,” she says, dropping it into the cardboard box.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What for?” Louis asks, reaching in to retrieve it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Lou.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really think you owe me an apology for accidentally finding mistletoe in a box of Christmas decorations?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just. I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Louis nods, the pleading sincerity in Harry’s voice wrapping around her like a comforter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry. I regret everything, Louis. I can’t even say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope not everything,” Louis whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry smiles tentatively and Louis’ heart clenches. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, not everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Me neither.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Harry asks, eyes welling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Course not. How could I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Louis, I still lo–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhh, love. Let’s just finish decorating for now, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Oh, ok. Of course, sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think I know the perfect place for this,” Louis smirks, tucking the mistletoe into Harry’s bun. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Louis,” Harry breathes out, her voice shaking, just before Louis leans in to stop her from saying anything more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fuck, sorry.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What? Why?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I mean, if that was weird?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Weird? Harry, can you look at me, please?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sorry.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t be sorry, love, just want to see you’re alright.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“’M fine. Just...didn’t mean to do that.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You kissed me by accident?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, been wanting to do that forever, Lou. I just…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re just second guessing?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“God, no! Definitely not. Just. Didn’t mean to spring it on you. Was all ready to talk to you about it first, tell you how I feel. Make sure you were ok with it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Did it feel like I wasn’t ok with it?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I...no. I don’t think so. It felt amazing.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Good.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I still feel bad for not asking first.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Harry, listen to me. I’ve been wanting to do that forever, too.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Have you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’ve no idea. I can’t believe you beat me to it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Shall we do it again, then?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fuck yes.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Finally, raise a glass to me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh fuck off, Niall.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Especially </span>
  </em>
  <span>you and Harry. Without my charming persistence keeping this trip alive, you wouldn’t’ve been trapped together last year and you’d still be making each other miserable with your mooning and regrets...instead of making </span>
  <em>
    <span>us </span>
  </em>
  <span>miserable with your sickening soulmate shite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hear hear!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi, I’m trying to take the piss out of Niall. Whose side are you on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yours, Lou, of course, always.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Also Niall’s.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, ok. See if I keep my promise to make you come so loud our mates either banish us or avoid eye contact all weekend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As if you could stop yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love my perfect pink nipples and my swollen, slick clit too much to keep your tongue and your fingers to yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bloody hell, Harry. A little decorum.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? I whispered!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair enough, love. Proper ladylike.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Saving my voice for later.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments and <a href="https://uhoh-but-yeah-alright.tumblr.com/post/639313260347277312">reblogs</a> are always very appreciated! </p><p>And thanks to <a href="https://homosociallyyours.tumblr.com/">Megan</a> and <a href="https://kingsofeverything.tumblr.com/">Lauren</a> for moderating this fest! I can't wait to read what everyone else has written! Girl Direction 4 Ever. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>